


The Greatest Love of the Century

by DinoDina



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff, Ice Cream, Marriage Proposal, Meet-Cute, oops spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 19:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoDina/pseuds/DinoDina
Summary: Tish visits Torchwood, runs into Lois — quite literally! — and it all goes from there.
Relationships: Lois Habiba/Tish Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: Music Fest 2021





	The Greatest Love of the Century

**Author's Note:**

> For the Torchwood Fan Fests Music Fest for the song: Bermondsey Street by Patrick Wolf.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Lois looks up from the ground. Her hand is smarting, bruised from where she used it to catch herself as she tumbled up down. Any rebuke on her lips is stopped when her eyes land on the woman who knocked her over. She looks faintly familiar, or maybe Lois is just lost in her eyse.

Her hands are stretched out, as if to help Lois and there's an uncertain look on her face as if she thinks Lois will reject her.

The last thing Lois is planning on doing is _rejecting_ her.

She straightens her skirt with one hand and accepts help standing with the other. "Thanks."

"It's all my fault," the woman says, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

The building lobby is confusing. The last thing Lois is going to do is blame her for getting lost. The corridors bleed into each other and there is no signage on the windows. Good for Torchwood, having its offices on the top floor. Bad for any visitors.

"Can I help you?" Lois asks.

The woman huffs out a small laugh, looks down, then up again. "I just knocked you over."

"By accident."

"Still."

" _Still_ ," Lois parrots. "Are you searching for someone?"

"Yes, I'm here to get lunch with an old friend. He's on the..." She looks down at her phone. "Damn, I thought I wrote it down. The top floor, I think?"

Lois shakes her head. "I don't think so, my office is there, it's—"

"Oh!" The woman smiles as if everything was suddenly fixed. "Yes, that sounds about right. He's very dramatic. Captain Harkness?"

"Oh!" Lois blinks. She's not his personal assistant, but she _is_ aware of everything that goes on at Torchwood. Jack having lunch with a very attractive woman? That definitely should have been on the calendar. "Yes, he's up there. I can show you the way?"

"That would be great."

It's only then that she drops Lois's hand, looking down as if embarrassed.

She has nothing to be embarrassed about.

_Lois_ was the one that forgot they were holding hands.

Perhaps being weak and soft for beautiful people is a job requirement when joining Torchwood. It certainly seems to be, between Jack and Ianto, who only have eyes for each other, and Gwen and Rhys, who only have eyes for _each_ other; Martha and Mickey fit the bill, too, but they freelance more than anything else. If that's the case, it's about time for Lois to get herself a crush.

"How do you Jack?" she asks, leading the woman to the lift at the back of the building.

"We go way back. He travelled with my sister for a while, we spent time together."

"Oh!" Lois puts the pieces together. The eyes, the facial structure, the smile. "You're Martha's sister."

"Tish."

"Tish." Lois has to look slightly up to meet her eyes when they're side-by-side. "Hi. I'm Lois."

"Hello."

* * *

She parts ways with Tish outside Jack's office, exchanging nods and smiles and... Did Tish brush her hand past Lois's as she walked away?

Lois is going to think yes, because there's an electric shock—metaphorically, which needs to be clarified in Torchwood—working its way up her arm from the touch.

She dodges Gwen's questions and teasing smiles, and takes her seat at her desk on the other side of the room. She doesn't have a perfect view of Jack's closed-off office—that honor goes to Ianto, and she thinks it's for horny purposes—but she can see the corridor well, and when Tish comes back, arm in arm with Jack, she's on the receiving end of one of the most blinding smiles she's ever seen.

"Thanks, Jack," Tish says, and goes up on tiptoe in her sensible shoes to peck his cheek.

Lois jumps up, trying to look as if she _isn't_ , and makes her way over just as Jack leaves.

"I can show you out?" she offers when she can tell Tish noticed her.

"That would be great, thanks."

Tish lets her take the lead, but they're once more walking together, and Lois suddenly can't find the world. She can improvise and think well on her feet, but small talk? With someone she thinks she likes? _No way_.

"How was lunch?" she asks and curses herself.

Tish doesn't seem to notice her awkwardness. "It was good. Jack had a meeting, so we didn't get to have dessert, but..."

"Hmm?"

Tish has stopped and is now looking at her with an excited smile. "How about you keep me company for some ice-cream? It's nice out, there's a stand right on the corner."

"I'd love to."

* * *

Later, Tish gives her a slip of paper with a phone number on it. _Her_ phone number.

Later still, Lois sends her a goodnight text, thanking her for the wonderful lunch and conversation. She asks, tentatively, if they can go out again soon.

Tish says yes.

* * *

Lois is just a little shorter than Tish. She wonders what they look like when they walk around Cardiff hand-in-hand. She's always smiling, unable to keep a straight face when she's with Tish, soaking up every moment they share. Tish smiles, too, her eyes crinkling at the corners when Lois tells a joke or when they pass by a particularly pretty flower or enter a welcoming coffee shop. She wears practical business-casual skirts to work because she never has to go into the field, and Tish prefers sundresses in the nice summer weather.

If she could draw, Lois would put her down on paper. Watercolor. Light and airy but permanent. She had to take art classes in school and could never get it right on the first try—she remembers being ten, so frustrated that her flowers weren't coming out right. She would try again for Tish.

Tish, who pulls her close when they walk past a street musician, fighting the urge to spin around together like they're in a film.

Tish, who's always on the lookout for rain, drawing her into stores or under awnings if they're caught in a sudden shower.

Tish, who brought her flowers and didn't laugh once when Lois teared up.

Tish, who...

Lois nestles into her side when Tish pulls her in, and holds Tish's hand in casual restaurants, swaying her side to side just a bit when the music gets loud, and laughs when Tish pouts that the rain ruined their plans because it's not about the _plans_ , it's about _them_.

* * *

A year passes.

Then two.

They move in together, and a small striped kitten grows into a graceful striped cat that likes to nap on the windowsill and gets tangled between their legs when they're trying to cook dinner together.

Lois works at Torchwood and Tish doesn't. She gets a job at an art gallery, and takes out her own work wardrobe, flowered skirts for day-to-day matters and pearl necklaces that she pairs with gowns during galas.

Tish visits sometimes, texting Tish to take her into the building if she's there to meet Jack.

And sometimes she shows up by herself, standing in the corner until Lois notices her and her heart skips a beat.

"I wanted to surprise you," Tish says when Lois approaches, holding her waist and pressing a kiss to Lois's cheek.

_Surprise_ isn't quite what Lois is feeling, but it's close enough. It's warmth, love—Tish wants to see her, wants to take her out into the city, wants to parade around and soak up the world together.

"Thanks," she says and tilts her head up to meet Tish's lips. Every kiss is like their first—soft, electric, full of potential—and Lois never wants to stop.

"Where are we going?" she asks when they get downstairs. While she's usually the one leading the way when they go upstairs, Tish is holding her hand now, walking with a purpose.

Tish turns to her with a smile. "You'll see."

It's warm outside, the sun only now going down. They have less than an hour of natural light left, which is more than enough. They're walking in the direction of home, taking their time—Lois knows where they're going, down the street and to the—

Or maybe she doesn't. Tish leads her to cross the street, which they don't usually do, which isn't _odd_ , per se, but is certainly different, and—

"I thought you might want some ice-cream." Tish leans closer to her so their linked hands are trapped between their bodies. "I know it's not our anniversary, but it's still summer. And they always give a discount at the end of the day."

Lois needs no excuse and kisses Tish's cheek. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

How hasn't she seen this coming? They get ice-cream all the time. Sticking with normal flavors, like strawberry and vanilla, trying new ones like the crazy berry blend that was way too sweet, and the chocolate-coffee-nut concoction that had stuck their teeth together for five minutes between bites.

"Let me," Tish says when Lois reaches for her wallet, and Lois lets her win, because the other option is to let go of her hand, which isn't happening anytime soon.

But Lois is the one to grab the ice-cream, turning away from Tish to do it, turning back and losing her breath when she sees her girlfriend as if it's the first time she's seeing her.

"Thanks," Tish says when Lois hands her the ice-cream. She looks down, then up. She does that when she's nervous; Lois is about to ask why, but Tish stops her. "We got ice-cream when we met. You know that, of course. Of course. You paid even though I said it was my treat, and I promised that I'd get the next time, but I was too scared to confirm, so you asked if we could see each other again. Every time I see you, it's like the first time. You're beautiful. You're funny. You're… I work with art every day and nothing even begins to compare. Your eyes light up when we pass by a dog but you're a cat person. You're awful at folding laundry but you have a precise system for the kitchen cabinets. You reach to hold my hand in the middle of the night when you're asleep and you don't remember it in the morning. You… Every time I see you, the world stops for a moment. I would know. I can't help but smile. You make me feel warm and safe. And I hope that I do the same to you. You…" She looks down. "I didn't really think this through when I started, I'm holding the ice-cream, can you… No, wait." She puts the ice-cream in another hand. "Close your eyes."

Lois does. She thinks some of her ice-cream has started to melt, running down the cone, making the side of her hand sticky, right where her thumb connects to her palm.

"Open."

She does, and the first thing she sees is Tish's nervous smile.

The second… Tish is slightly lower now, looking up at Lois, and when did she slide off the bench? She slid down the bench, she's on one knee, her dress brushing the dirty ground beside the pavement bench, and…

_Oh_.

"Marry me?"

Lois would be lost for words. She _should_ be, she knows people usually are, but this is hardly a surprise. They discussed this before. She knew it was coming. Lois doesn't wait a second to respond, throwing herself into Tish's arms, knocking the ice-cream cone out of her hand, dropping her own somewhere behind Tish's back, kissing Tish's cheek with sweet, sticky lips, whispering, " _Yes, yes, yes_."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and let me know what you thought!


End file.
